Hell to Heaven
by Firefly Rebirth
Summary: A short story concerning Fuu and the things she has lost since her passage to the realm of Cephiro was cut off. . . A journey from sadness to bliss.


            _Here goes_, the woman thought as she took careful steps toward the huge metal gates of the manor.  Her hair had grown and her face had gotten more mature in the three years since she had last been home.

            She had had her hair done, curled and styled and everything, with her nails manicured and painted and her makeup perfectly applied.  Her body was wrapped in a heavy green coat that had been freshly rid of its price tag.  Beneath that was a white gown that had taken hours to pick out.

            Her gloved finger shook as it was raised to push the buzzer.  The woman shut her eyes tightly and pressed it.

            _DONG!  DING!  DING!  DONG!  DING!_

            The familiar ring brought her back to her senses.  She greeted the butler who came out to meet her.  He was an old man who had been with her family for years.  His withered brow raised and then crumpled, but he let opened the gates and took her to the house.

            She stood nervously in the entranceway.  There was her mother's fur coat and her father's drab gray one.  And their boots, made of only the finest leather, of course.

            The woman blew on her gloved hands.  It was nice to be warming up and on stable ground after slipping and sliding outside.  While the snow felt nice on her skin, it made her hair wet and frozen.

            She heard the sound of the butler announcing her arrival.  "The Lady Fuu is here, ma'am."

            Fuu could hear the screech of her mother's voice.  "_Fuu_?  What is she doing here?"  This was followed by the noises of a woman rising hastily from her couch and clambering to the door.

            The opening of the hall opened up, light flooding in, blocked by the long, thin, sophisticated form of the Mistress Hououji.  She paused as she looked down at her daughter.

            "G-Good evening, Mother," Fuu said, curtseying.

            "It _was_ a good evening," the older woman replied.  "What are you doing here, child?"

            _I'm not a child_, thought the other, but she kept her mouth shut and maintained a smile, despite the nervous beating in her heart.  She stood up straight and paid the greatest respect to her mother.

            "I _said_, what are you doing here?"

            "I came to see you," Fuu at least replied, with quietness and nervousness.  "Can I not visit my own family?"

            "Humph!  You gave up such privileges years ago," Mrs. Hououji told her crossly.  She sighed.  "I guess I cannot have you obstruct the entranceway, so come in for something to drink."

            A small smile of relief crossed Fuu's lips as she followed the woman through the complex halls of the house to the sitting room.  There were paintings everywhere, and the carpet was fine and lush, and every doorway they passed led to a huge, finely decorated areas.  It was a far cry from the tiny apartment Fuu had inhabited recently.

            Fuu's coat was taken and she was put into one of the leather chairs across from her mother's fluffy sofa.  It was her mother's and had always been so; only that woman sat there.  No one else.

            "White wine—no, make that scotch," the elder woman instructed the maid.

            The maid turned to Fuu.  "Miss, what would you like?"

            "Hot chocolate, please," Fuu said kindly, smiling at the girl.  When the maid was gone and she was left alone with her mother, Fuu crossed her legs and sat there, her mind racing.

            Mistress Hououji adjusted some of the gray stripes of her light brown hair.  She spoke not a word.

            "So…  How are you doing, Mother?"

            "You would not know, would you?" scoffed the woman.  "Well, I am doing as well as can be expected."

            "Do you blame me for everything, Mother?"  Fuu's eyes were on her folding and unfolding hands, which were fidgeting in her lap.

            "Speaking of _everything_, where is that bastard of yours?"

            Fuu's lips were parched.  She smacked them together, hidden by the curls of her hair, waiting for words to finally emerge.  "Mother…did you not get my letter?"

            "Perhaps.  I have forgotten."

            "My child…died…"

            She paused for a moment at her daughter's words, but then lifted up her head to look down her nose at the young woman.  "Don't cry.  It was years ago, wasn't it?"

            "He was born…dead…"  Fuu blinked, the memories flooding back into her mind and almost out again as tears.  "He was beautiful…"

            "He was a bastard of my whore daughter," moaned her mother.

            Fuu looked up, her eyes wide and unbelieving.  "Mother…he was…your grandson."

            "Grandson?  If you'd be married to whatever man you messed around with—!"

            "Mother!"

            The woman stood, her long, black skirt sweeping the red carpet.  "The truth is the truth.  You shamed our family, Fuu!  To think my own daughter would turn out to be a slut!"

            Fuu's voice was still quiet and wavering, even though her mother was screaming.  "Mother…Mother…  You still do not care about my child?  He was not a bastard, he was my son and…your grandson, and Kuu's nephew and everything else.  And he is dead…!"

            "He was a bastard, and my daughter is a whore!"

            Fuu's cheeks were wet, her makeup running down into her hands as she held her face and sobbed.  "I am not a whore!" she cried.

            "A whore is a whore!" screamed her mother.  "You're a shameful child!  You cannot be my daughter!"

            Fuu stood up, shaking at her mother's anger.  "After three years…I…come back…only to be…called…whore?  And my son…my poor, poor baby…a _bastard_?"

            "What do you want?"

The sound of shattering crystal and ceramic met their ears, as the maid, startled by her boss's fuming, dropped the tray and dashed off, urgently seeking refuge.

            "You think he deserved to die?" asked Fuu, looking away.  She could not meet her mother's angry gaze at this point.

            "You disgraced our family, Fuu…"

            "And he deserved to die?  My poor little baby?" screamed Fuu, this time braving her mother's glare.  "What a shameful woman _you_ are, for not caring about your own grandson!"

            _Slap!_

            "You whore.  You are not my daughter!"

            "You disown me, Mother?"

            "Don't call me that!  I am not a mother to a slut who shames and disgraces her family!  Go back!  I never want to see you again!"

            "Goodbye, Mother," Fuu said, reverting to being quiet.  She jogged for the door and snatched up her coat from the rack, and slid out the door and away to a corner a few blocks away.

            Here, she slunk down and began to weep.

*|**|**|*

            _Why did I come back? _she wondered as she watched the sunset from Tokyo Tower.  _I knew that Mother would behave so…!  Three years ago…I was a whore then, too._

            The weather was colder that evening.  Fuu was one of the few who braved the slippery, frigid air to come to Tokyo Tower.

            _This is where it all began_, she thought.  _Now those days of saving Cephiro, the days of love and laughter…  They have left me, along with my friends.  I know I should feel happy for them, but I am lonely now._

            She reached into her inner coat pocket.  It was still there.  She traced the outline of the blade.  It was six inches long, but thin and easily concealable.  But she did not need to hide it any longer.

            It was time.

            Out of the coat she drew it.  Her wise green eyes studied her companions.  There was a couple on the far side, and a few soul wanderers looking out over the beautiful, bustling city of Tokyo.

            No one was watching.

            Fuu held her hand to her throat, the blade grasped tightly within it.  She closed her eyes and pushed hard, making a long, thin, deep line down the side of her elegant neck.

            "Goodbye," she whispered faintly as her knees lost their strength and her legs crumpled to the floor.  Even now, as she fell to her end, she was still slim and graceful.  On the floor as her big, emerald eyes fluttered to a slow close, her skirts and coat spread around her in a great oval.  Even now, as the crimson blood stained her light hair, she was lovely.  Even now as the few people of the room rushed to her side, as the blade clattered to the floor, she was still beautiful.

*|**|**|*

            "Fuu!  Fuu!" the man cried as he struggled against the security guards.  "Let me go!  I must see her!"

            One of the guards, a tall, muscular man with his short black hair covered by a tall baseball cap, gave the stranger an extra push.  "What are you?  Some kind of circus freak or something?"

            The other guard, who was younger, teased, "Yeah!  That weird cape—and that _hair_!  'Circus freak' is right!"

            He did not know what they were talking about, nor did he care.  "You have to let me see her!  What if something happens before I can talk to her?"

            "If she wakes up and sees your green hair, she'll probably freak out at you, weirdo."

            "She won't!  She knows me!"

            "Yeah, sure—in her _nightmares_!  Now get out."  The more experienced guard said this last order in a low, threatening voice.  He had put his hand on his gun as well.

            "I'll see her," promised the man, relenting and backing out of the hospital slowly.  As he retreated, he looked over the huge hospital building, wondering where Fuu was located.

            He had come all this way.  He was not going to let go now.

*|**|**|*

            "Young lady," the psychiatrist said, peering over the tips of his gold-rimmed glasses and down his wrinkled nose at her.  "Why won't you tell us who you are?  We should contact your parents."

            She blinked at him, but said nothing.  The pain in her neck was enough to tell her she had not succeeded.  _I need to get out of here.  I need to get out of this world…_

            The man sighed and leaned back in the worn chair, which wasn't very comfortable in the least.  He scratched his balding head.  Would she ever talk?  After the better part of an hour, he could still only get gestures from her.  If he was lucky.

            "The doctor said you did not damage your vocal chords.  You can talk; I know it."

            _Damn_.

            "Is it the trauma?"

            Sure, why not?  She gave a shrug.

            "I _am_ here to help, but I can't help if you won't tell me what's the matter."  He wagged a sole finger at her.

            _I am not a junior high school student anymore_, she thought angrily.  _Why is he being so condescending?_  She decided to speak.  "Sir, pardon me, but I do not wish for any of your assistance."

            Relief passed across his skinny face.  She had spoken at last!  "Why not, miss?"

            "I am perfectly well.  I do not require your services, so please leave to help someone else."

            Red-hot anger came next, coming up even on the tip of his bald head.  "I am the doctor here, young lady.  Now tell me what is the matter."

            "The matter is," Fuu answered very calmly, "that you do not believe I can take care of myself.  But I am twenty years old and I have lived by myself for the past three years.  Sir."

            The formality of her speech seemed to make him yet more upset.  "Are you mocking me?"

            "No, I believe I am not.  Now please tell the doctors I wish to check out."

            "Tell me your name and you can.  We will contact your family and you can go home at once."

            Her cool resolve dissolved, and she turned away so that her brown-blond waves covered her expression.  "I have no family.  Not anymore, sir."

            "At least your name," he growled under his breath.

            "I…do not feel like sharing it."  She crawled beneath the sterilized white sheets and turned away from him.  "I am going to rest now, so let me be."

            He threw his clipboard to the floor and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.  Fuu could hear angry comments about herself, even through the wall.

            _It does not matter if I am a 'snide bitch'_, thought Fuu.  _All I desire is to leave this Godforsaken world…_

            And then, something caught her eye.  It was the fire escape outside the window.

*|**|**|*

            It was bitterly cold without wearing anything on but hospital pajamas.  Fuu did not care.  She closed the window behind her and carefully made down the swinging metal staircase.  She was still agile and strong from her days on the archery team.

             It was around midnight when she finally reached the bottom and scurried off into some nearby bushes.  Luckily, she had been near a park.  Across the street she ran, behind some trees she ducked.  She watched the hospital disappear in the corner of her eye as she snuck through the brush.

            When she was crouched by a big tree, completely out of sight and safe for the moment, Fuu reached up to touch the white bandages that clothed her neck.  Apparently, she had fainted before the blade went very deep into her flesh.

            "Her wound is superficial," the doctor had said to the psychiatrist, "but, if she'd been just a few inches away, she would be dead now."

            _Damn those few inches_, thought Fuu.  _I wanted to die.  Everything is worthless now.  I just want to die._

            And then someone walked past on the path.

            _Huh?_

            She looked up.  His strange green hair was shimmering in the lamplight.  He was wearing a cape.  He was…

            _I must be hallucinating, _she told herself, closing her eyes.  She opened them again, a bit eagerly.  She saw him look distantly in her direction.  And then she knew.

            _Dear God_, she thought.  _Dear God, it is him…_

            But no, he was far away now.  Fuu leapt to her feet and scurried after him on the red brick path.  But she was weak and could not run all the way.

            He thought he had heard a sound and turned around now.  His eyes met hers and he froze.  Then he came over, his mouth open to speak but no words to come.

            It took all her strength to remain standing, but she did it for him, slightly slanted to one side.  She was skinny and bedraggled, and she only had thin fabric to keep her covered.  But her mouth opened slightly into a weak smile.  "Ferio…"

            The sound of her voice met his ears, the sight of her falling came into his eyes and he rushed to catch her.  He placed a kiss on her forehead, on her nose, on her cheek, and on her lips.  He did not mind the stale taste that met him there, and he pushed his tongue inside.  When this was done, he squeezed her tightly.  "Fuu, Fuu, Fuu," he uttered again and again in his deep voice.

            She breathed his name once more and pulled her body to his chest.  "You are warm," she said as the cape was wound around her cold, fragile frame.  "Warm…"

            And then, Fuu slipped from consciousness.

*|**|**|*

            Fuu blinked her eyes open.  The first part of her to awake was her nose, for the smell of bacon wafted through the room.  But now her eyes were scanning to see the interior of an unfamiliar room.  She was the sole occupant of a four-poster bed that was covered in deep blue comforters.  She could make out little beyond the curtain that surrounded the bed.

            Then he came in, pushed the curtain aside, and sat himself and the tray of hot breakfast beside her.

            Fuu struggled to sit up, and leaned against the cherry backboard.  "Ferio, where are we?" was her first question, although she had many others surfacing in her quick mind.

            He placed his strong, tan hand on her thin, pale one.  "We're in a house that I bought," he explained.  "It is on the outskirts of your 'Tokyo'."

            She blinked.  "You _bought_ a house, Ferio?"

            He nodded, smiling at her and squeezing her fingers.  He also was wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt that had the Japanese symbol for 'Earth' written in glowing green.  Ferio pushed the tray of food towards her.  "It took me ages to make this; please eat."

            She refused until her question was answered.  "Where did you get the money for all of this?"

            Ferio winked at her.  "Minerals and trinkets from Cephiro fetch a fair price in your world, my lady," he explained.

            Fuu reached for one of the questionable looking pieces of bacon and placed it in her mouth.  It was overly crunchy, but it was bacon nonetheless.  She had not had it in years.  "Do you have a napkin?"

            He picked up one from beneath the plate of toast.

            She reached out, but he withheld it.  "Eat all of your food, and you can have it."

            She gave him an exasperated look.  He always played this game before, telling her that she did not eat enough and he would not let her clean up until she ate everything.

            Fuu sighed and relented as she always did.  But each bite was harder than the last.  She was not used to eating much of anything.  When she had finally wiped her face, she said, "Umi was a good cooking instructor for you, Ferio.  What other Earth dishes can you make now?"

            He thought, and listed the unfamiliar phrases slowly.  "Rice balls, sushi, okanomiyaki, crepes, scones, cakes…  A lot of things.  But I couldn't practice because we don't have the right ingredients in Cephiro."

            Fuu nodded slowly, but she began to enter a surreal realm of feelings.  "Ferio, are you really here?"

            The ethereal tone of her voice startled him, and he crawled across the bed to her.  "Fuu?  I'm here, I'm here.  Believe me."

            She shook her head.  "Is there a shower here?  I need a shower…"  She got up from the bed slowly.

            "Yeah, there is.  I'll take you."  He walked behind her, holding her arms gently so she would not fall.  "And I bought you something, but I didn't know what you'd like to wear, so…"

            There was a simple green dress lying on the dresser.

            "That's fine," she told him, admiring it with the half of herself that was still present in reality.  She picked it up along with some socks and underwear.  Where had he gotten all of this?

            Her shower was cold and slow.  She leaned against the side.  Why was she in such a nice little house with expensive furnishings?  Why was Ferio there?

            Half an hour later she came out in the new clothing, the pajamas thrown down the laundry chute.  She had combed her hair and washed her face, and run her finger along the wound.

            There was only one large towel and a washcloth in the bathroom, with toothpaste and brushes completing the contents.  Ferio was prepared but had not bought that much for the house yet, it seemed.

            She came out refreshed, and found him sitting on the made bed in the bedroom.  His prince clothes were in a pile in the far corner, and he was lounging over a magazine, looking just like a normal male college student.  Even his green hair looked natural, for it was normal of young people to do strange things like dye their hair.

            Fuu came and sat next to him, about to examine the magazine, but not being allowed to since he put it aside and came closer to her.

            "Ferio," she whispered, "I cannot comprehend what seems to be happening.  How did you get here from Cephiro?"

            "How did you get from this world to mine?" he asked in response.  He kissed her open lips and grinned.  "Magic."

            Fuu looked away, her longish hair swinging to block her thoughtful expression.  "But how did you buy all this in such a short time?"

            "I bought the house when I finally came here to Japan," he said.  "You see, the magic took me to some place in 'France'—the Eiffel Tower, was it?  I sold some of my gems to buy a…'plane ticket' to…Tokyo.  I bought a house and a few things before setting out to met you, because it was my intention all along to whisk you away here."

            "I was in France," she murmured.  "After my mother made me leave, I went to France.  But I sold all of my belongings for a ticket back to Tokyo…  I do not know why…"

            He pushed the hair away to around her ear so that he could read her features.  "Your mother…kicked you out?"

            "I suppose I should tell you," she murmured slowly.  "A while after I last saw you in Cephiro, I tried to go again.  I could not."  She paused.  "And…some things happened.  I found out that I was pregnant."  She braced herself, scared of his reaction.

            "And?"

            From that single word, she had no idea what he felt.  She decided to continue in a dejected, choking voice.  "My mother…called me a whore.  And she said I should leave Japan forever, for I had shamed the family.  I came back to try to make amends with her, but she said that she disowned me…"

            "And that's why…?"

            She nodded slowly.  "I did not want to live anymore.  I lost my baby and my family and you…"  The tears slowly came down her cheeks.

            Ferio was confused.  "Sorry…what does…'losing a baby' mean?"

            "Of course, you do not know…  In Cephiro, bad things like stillbirths do not happen."  She shook her head.  "He was…dead when he was born."

            Ferio gripped her tightly.  "I'm terribly sorry," he whispered.

            Fuu sniffed.  "It was almost three years ago…  I am over it."

            "How did the father of the baby feel?"

            Fuu backed away from his chest and looked up at him with wide green eyes.  "Father…?  Ferio, who else would be the father but you?"

            And he froze, and he looked at her, and he said nothing.

            "I tried to get back to Cephiro a thousand times," she said, her eyes low.  "But it never worked."  She clung to him.  "I am so glad you are here, Ferio.  I wanted to kill myself…"

            "I know."  He ran his finger tenderly along her neck.

            "Ferio," she breathed as his lips kissed her wound ever so softly.  "Ferio…"

            He switched to the other side of her neck and began to run his tongue up and down slowly, and then more and more passionately.

            She held him close with her arms, tilting her head backward and sighing quietly.  It had been too long…

            He found the buttons on the back of her dress and slowly undid them, one by one.  She allowed him to peel it off.  Ferio threw it aside and maneuvered both of them under the covers.

            Fuu had not had a bra so there was not much more to lose.  Nearly naked, she looked up at him as he hovered over her thin body.

            His breathing was heavy already.  "Fuu…is it okay?" he asked, making sure.

            "Yes," she replied, and lifted his shirt off of his head.

            "I love you," he moaned as the rest of his clothing came off.

            "I love you," she said again, kissing the scar on his cheek, his nose, and then his lips wildly.  "Ferio, Ferio…"

He caressed her shoulders and arms gently, and bent his head to her chest.

            "Ferio, Ferio," she said over and over again, praying it wasn't a dream.  _If this is not real, then at least I seemed to have gone to Heaven…_

*|**|**|*

            Late that afternoon, Fuu awoke, her body intertwined with that of the man she loved.  He was adorable when he was asleep, and she pressed her small nose against his cheek and licked his lips.  They tasted good, and she snuggled her whole body yet closer to him to feel his soft breath on her face.

            The smell of their lovemaking was heavy in the air, and she relished it.  All day she had spent remembering how wonderful it was to be with Ferio, and now she could relax and truly, leisurely, ponder it.

            She took a thin finger and traced his scar, and then ventured over to the rest of his face.  When she was close to his mouth, he opened his lips and began to suck tenderly.

            His eyes opened slowly and he gave her a deep look, using one of his legs to push hers closer and wrap them yet more.  When he was done with her finger, his mouth traveled to her neck and chest, and then back up to take her lips into a nearly violent kiss.

            Fuu felt happier with each second that passed.  She pulled his big, muscular body on top of her again, gripping at his back and hair with desperate fists.

            Ferio had to push her away a little.  "Fuu, aren't you a bit tired for…?"

            Her reply was a tighter embrace and the slipping of her tongue between his lips so that he could not utter another word.

            He pushed her off again, a bit reluctant.

            "I missed you," she mumbled, realizing there would not be any more.

            "And I missed you, but I fear I shall spend the rest of my life in bed with you and never doing anything else."  Ferio pondered this for a moment.  "I would not mind it, really…  But I would die of pleasure."

            Fuu smiled at him and began to play with his shaggy bangs.

            He chuckled softly.  "My little Fuu…so grown up."

            "Be quiet," she giggled.

            He slid off of her and held her in his arms close at his side.  "Fuu, I studied this world in every book you or the other girls brought.  And I want to stay here in this house and live forever with you."

            Fuu sat up a bit and stared down at him.  "Really, Ferio?"

            "Yes.  But that means you must be around to share in this future."  He placed his hand on her neck.  "When I saw you fall over at Tokyo Tower, I thought you were dead."  He pulled his fingers through her wavy hair.  "And I almost died myself."

            Fuu leaned on him, her head on his shoulder.  "Ferio, now that you are with me, I look forward to the future.  The world is no longer forsaken for me, but bright and beautiful."

            "Not as beautiful as you."

            Fuu blushed and nudged him playfully with her nose.  "Ferio…"

_~The End~_


End file.
